Hopeless Wanderer
by thewalkingcutie
Summary: Molly Lipscomb is a southern girl, born and raised in North Georgia. She's been alone for months, with not even so much as a mouse to keep her company. What will she do when a group of survivors stumble across her living quarters? Is it possible that someone she knew is still alive? Daryl/OC. Set post-Season 3. M for Language and adult themes later on.
1. I came out of the woods by choice

**I don't own any characters or storylines from The Walking Dead, I just like to make my own additive material. Here it is, and I hope you like it! It's my first one, so please rate and review :)**

In general, Molly Lipscomb wasn't very happy about her current circumstances. Surrounded by reanimated dead people didn't exactly fit her idea of a comfortable lifestyle. Having grown up in the backwoods of Georgia, she was well aware of the hardships one must to endure to live day to day, but before the "plague" it had at least been manageable. These days she didn't even sleep. All of her energy and hours were focused on keeping herself alive and as far away from danger as possible.

Her current place of residence was a tree house she had located in the hills about an hour away from Atlanta – not too close to the big city, and not so far away that she couldn't drive there as a last ditch effort to find shelter or supplies. The tree house had probably been constructed by an overachieving father that was eager to give his children distraction from the shitty environment in which they lived. She knew how it was, though – being born and raised in the redneck stretch of North Georgia desensitized to those kinds of shithole towns.

Looking down out of one of the side windows of the house, she surveyed the land with an hawk's eye. Yesterday the house was nearly ripped down by a horde of those hungry fucks, and she wasn't about to let her guard down again. She wiped sweat from her furrowed brow as she recalled how they moaned and clawed at her boots while she picked them off individually with expendable supplies such as throwing knives and a spare hatchet.

Pre-disastrous-fucking-mess-that-her-life-had-turn ed-into, Molly was a student at the University of Georgia, looking to get her degree in business. She was trying her hardest to get herself out of her redneck town and into a job where she could have a life worth living. She loved her family and wanted the best for them as well, but she just wasn't content with the small town life that they'd been so keen to settle for. At 24, she had managed to finance herself through two years of school but had to come back home to save money for more education. She scoffed at the thought.

"All that money wasted, and now the fucking world's gone to shit, too." she huffed heavily, trying to keep her thoughts at bay. When she started thinking about her life before, she started remembering her family and her friends who were no longer with her.

"_Molly, I'm gon' head out back and see if they ain't any gasoline in that shed." her father spoke confidently, handing her a flashlight just in case she wanted to scavenge the house for more goods. They'd been driving for about three hours – she and her father and brother – and stopped at what seemed to be an abandoned house in the rural area surrounding Atlanta. Evening had fallen and they decided to stay at the house for the night if there were no unwanted biters hanging around._

_She nodded at her dad and then clicked the flashlight on, shining it around the downstairs of the house that they'd already deemed safe. She and her brother – a national guard soldier – ventured upstairs, cautiously creaking upward to what lurked on the floor above them. As they searched, they noticed that the house looked relatively untouched – no broken glass, no blood. They let themselves fall into a brief sense of security before gathering supplies into a knapsack she kept tied on her shoulders for quick-escape situations._

_As they headed downstairs, they heard a blood-curdling scream from the backyard and Molly's heart dropped. "Dad?!" she screamed as she and her brother ran outside and into the open yard. In the short distance between she and the shed, she could see two of those fucks – one with its teeth sunk into her father's arm and another chomping at the bit to get to his neck. Without thinking, she charged toward the shed, her flashlight in one hand and a crowbar in the other. Her brother, hot on her heels, wielded a gun with a homemade suppressor and shot the first biter in the head. In her rage, she whacked the other biter in the head with a dull thud, and it fell to the floor. Her brother put a bullet in its skull and they surveyed the damage to their father._

"_Come on, Dad, it'll be okay." she whispered, looking at place on his arm that was missing an entire chunk of flesh. It was oozing bright red blood and was already starting to bruise a nasty purplish-brown color. He sat down against the wall of the shed and didn't dare look at the wound._

"_Sis, you know better, girl. I taught you better." he spoke in a labored manner, pain tangible in his voice. Her brother stood to the side awkwardly – he knew what had to happen and was clearly trying to separate himself from the situation, as he always did._

_Molly tried to hold back tears as she watched the blood clot thickly and change colors altogether. In lieu of the bright red from before, it was now a sticky marmalade-colored substance. Damn._

"_Fuck, man." her brother stammered, and put a hand on his head. They had always talked about what would happen if something like this occurred, but now that it was here, it was obvious that words were a lot easier to conjure than actions would be._

"_Y'all know what you have to do, now go on 'n do it!" their father barked impatiently – he had never been the sensitive type or the kind to delay what was necessary. Molly shook her head and felt tears brim in her blue eyes. She had always been a Daddy's Girl and knew that she wouldn't be able to do what she had to in this situation. She looked at her brother grimly. He didn't have to ask to know what she was trying to say._

_His brown eyes locked on hers before he heaved a sigh that shouldered the weight of the world. "Get on outta here, Sis. Say your goodbyes and shit and then get on out." To anyone else this would have been insensitive, but she knew her brother never knew how to deal with matters of this magnitude and took it at face value. She looked at her Dad, who was paling and perspiring slightly._

_Kneeling down beside her father, she placed a kiss on his forehead and spoke to him for the last time. "I love you, Daddy. Be good to Mama now, and tell Mamaw I said I miss her." She could barely speak, but managed to clear her throat enough to get the words out._

"_I love you, Sis. It ain't no goodbye. I'll see you later."_

_Without looking back, Molly got up and walked out of the shed. She heard her brother mumble some unintelligible words before she heard the hammer click back._

_A gunshot rang out that pierced a hole in her heart as wide as the Grand Canyon._


	2. I will remember the words that you said

Molly looked around at her small tree house and sighed defeatedly. Her attempt at a nap yesterday turned into a fucking three hour marathon of whack-a-biter and she didn't want that to happen again. Cabin fever was her second-to-worst enemy these days, and because she'd gone on a supply run the week before, she was still doing well on rations, so there was no need for her to venture out of her makeshift home.

She could see the tops of trees swaying in the wind in the distance – living in a tree on a hill had its advantages, and this view was definitely one. She could feel a bead of sweat drip down her neck and it gave her goosebumps. She was thankful that this summer was just sweltering heat and no humidity. Last summer was fucking terrible – the damp stench of reanimated bodies wafted everywhere and stuck to your clothes, following you like some sick, diseased dog. She laughed in spite of herself and pulled herself up to her feet.

Walking over to a full-length mirror she'd propped against the wall, she assessed her current state of being. She was tall, with curly brown hair that reached the middle of her back when it was down. It was currently wrapped up in a braid that hung loosely at her side. Before the apocalypse, she'd been fit and even a little on the thick side of the spectrum. She was now bordering on underweight, and her face looked pale and gaunt, her blue eyes seemingly too big. She sighed for the millionth time that day and kicked dust at the bottom of the mirror.

"Fuck this shit, man." she spoke harshly, walking over to the bookshelf she had placed near a corner of the room. She picked up a beat-up book and fell onto a beanbag chair to try and relax, if it was at all possible. It wasn't long before her ears registered hushed male voices outside, accompanied by the snapping of twigs and small branches in the surrounding woods.

She moved into action immediately – she knew the risks of being caught off guard, especially by more than one hostile or desperate male. Shaking the thought from her mind, she attempted to focus more directly on the task at hand – protecting her "home" and herself from danger. She moved to the ladder of the tree house so that she might see below the branches around her. She could make out at least four figures – three males and one female.

"We've gotta get supplies. That's the end of it. They ain't no more food to go around and plenty of people to feed." a tall, scruffy male in what looked like a sherriff's uniform spoke hurriedly. They couldn't have been more than 15 feet away from her, but her vision wasn't the best. She could at least see that they were heavily armed – at least two guns per person and some redneck had a fucking crossbow. The fuck?

"We understand that, Rick. We just need to know where to go. We've searched nearly everywhere – almost everything is gone!" a younger kid in a baseball cap spoke, clearly stressed out by the situation. Molly rolled her eyes – there was no way they could have searched _everywhere._ She'd been out and about a time or two and there was plenty left to be found, that was for damn sure.

The redneck seemed to be looking around and surveying their surroundings more closely than the others. As the other two men and the women argued about their current endeavor, he was busy kneeling at the ground, looking at God knows what. How stupid was he, anyway? It was only when his eyes trailed from the ground to the shoe prints at the base of the tree to the muddy branches around her tree house that she knew what he had been doing. This son of a bitch was a damn good tracker, and she was about to be found out.

Privy to that point in time, Molly had prided herself on having gotten rid of the fallen walkers from the previous day's battle, but she hadn't thought very much on getting rid of her shoe prints or the muddy tracks leading up the tree and straight into her little settlement.

"_Fuck."_ she said inwardly, as the redneck walked closer to the tree to get a better look. The people he was with were still oblivious to what the hell was going on, and she was glad. Maybe he'd magically be satisfied when there was no movement from above and leave her the hell alone. His crossbow was still strapped to his back, and that had to be a good sign. He wasn't suspicious enough to raise is weapon yet, and that spoke volumes about the situation to her.

As he continued to survey the tree house, Molly crept backward in an attempt to keep herself better concealed. He knew what he was doing and she didn't want to get caught up in a fight she couldn't handle. She barely knew how to use the handguns she had and was only of any real use when she was within distance to use a melee weapon. If this went sour, the odds weren't in her favor at all.

Without thinking, Molly crept back just a tad too far and knocked over the mirror from earlier, resulting in a loud crash. Her heart leapt into her throat as she heard the redneck shout at his friends that something was up in the tree house. Had she heard that voice before?

She heard commotion below and the voices were directly under her.

"If someone is up there, you got one chance to come out and show yourself. Ya hear?" The sheriff called up the ladder, and Molly scrunched her face up in anger at herself. She had been pinpointed and there was nothing she could do about it. She heard guns cock from below and decided that it was now or never.

"Don't shoot!" she shouted feebly, her voice rough from lack of use. "I'm comin' down!" she sighed in defeat. She hoisted herself onto the ladder and made her way down to the ground, which was a good distance away. She held her hands up as if to signal that she didn't mean any harm to the group. She didn't dare look at their faces.

"Who are you?" The sheriff asked, his gun pointed at her. "And look at me when I'm speakin' to you, girl."

She did as she was told and looked into the face of the man. "My names Molly, and I ain't no threat to you." she spoke confidently, venom in her voice. The sheriff looked her up and down and gave a gentle nod of acknowledgment. That was when it happened.

"Molly? Fuckin' Molly Lipscomb?" a gruff voice said from the back of the group. The crossbow lowered and her head cocked to the side. How could she not have recognized that motherfucker?

"Daryl Dixon. Well I'll be. Shoulda known I'd be seeing your sorry ass sooner or later." she spoke, a small smile licking at her lips. It was her lucky day, that was for damn sure. It's not every day that you come upon a group of survivors, so it must be once in a blue moon that you actually know one of them.

"You know this girl, Daryl?" the sheriff questioned, taken aback by the conversation that was taking place.

"Know her? She's from where I'm from. Grew up 'round her. She ain't no threat. Girl don't even know how to shoot a damn gun." he spoke gruffly but honestly. The sheriff lowered his gun and tucked it in his pocket. The guy in the baseball cap and the female kept their guns up – I suppose they weren't so quick to trust, and rightly so.

"Rick Grimes." was all the man said, and reached out his hand. "You said you'd been here a couple months... How you still alive?" She shook his hand solidly.

"I got my ways. I'm good with a blade or a blunt weapon and I can run. I also know where to find supplies." She informed him, adding on the bit about supplies to peak the interest of the group. "I heard y'all is having trouble finding stuff. They's still plenty in a town not 5 minutes down the road from here." Although more at ease than before, she still didn't know if she could trust this bunch, even if Daryl seemed to be a part of them. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and waited on a reaction.

"You interested in comin' with us? Don't think it's a permanent invitation. We need help finding all the food and medical products we can get."

Molly thought for a minute before replying vaguely, "Where are ya'll holed up at?" Part of her was curious where all of these people could possibly be without risking detection or being overrun. Another part of her wanted as much human contact as possible.

Rick looked at the other three in the group. The girl and the Asian kid had since lowered their guns and seemed interested in the conversation. Daryl moved up so that he stood beside Rick instead of behind him. His eyes surveyed her up and down with a keen glint she'd seen in his eye since she was about 18. A smile tugged at her lips.

"We got a place in a prison about 10 miles from here. 'Bout 40 people since we picked up the people from Woodbury. You can see why we're in need of supplies as soon as possible. Lotta elderly folk and some young kids. Can you help, or can't you?" Rick replied impatiently. Molly pursed her lips and shifted her weight from foot to foot. She met Daryl's eyes and contemplated for a minute.

"I think I can be of some help to y'all, if ya let me try 'n earn my keep at your prison."

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, I guess.


	3. Left a clouded mind and a heavy heart

**Daryl's Point of View**

Rick had welcomed Molly into their hunting brigade with a promise that she would be able to try to earn her keep around the prison. Daryl was more than okay with this. He wouldn't let anybody know, but he was damn excited to see her. He met Molly when he was 14 years old and she was 8. Her family had moved next door to the shithole trailer he lived in with his father and brother.

The difference between Daryl and Molly was that Daryl was raised to feel like absolute trailer trash and she was raised with the belief that she was better than that – that she could do anything she wanted to. He could remember the first time they met like it was yesterday.

_The little girl held her father's hand as she walked up the cement blocks to their new trailer in Northern Georgia, just a town away from where she had been born. _

"_Daddy, why did we have to move?" she asked, tugging on her father's hand._

"_I told ya, baby, I got a new job. We gotta be close so I can keep it." he smiled down at her, and gently rubbed his thumb across the top of her hand. "I'm gonna go finish getting' the rest of the stuff – I left your bike out. They's plenty of kids here – go make some friends, honey." _

_Molly shrugged and looked around the empty trailer as her Dad returned to the moving van to get more boxes of their belongings. She wiggled her ankle hesitantly before turning around and walking out the door she'd just entered. She spotted her bike on the side of the road by the next door neighbors' mailbox._

"_D-i-x-o-n... Dixon?" she spoke aloud, doing her best to read the name. "Dixon." she repeated for security, before getting on her bike and riding around the moving van a few times._

_14 year old Daryl Dixon sat in his bedroom listening to grunge music that was more suitable for a 25 year old to be listening to. He hadn't seen his father in a couple of days and he looked outside at the sound of commotion, thinking maybe he'd returned home. His eye was caught by a little girl in a purple jumpsuit riding around the dirt road outside, occasionally turning around in the dirt pathway that was his father's parking spot._

_He sighed resignedly and walked to the front porch of the trailer, perching on the steps leading down into the very driveway the girl had been riding in a couple of minutes before._

"_Hey!" he yelled. He had every intention of scaring the crap out of the little girl so that she didn't ride in his driveway again._

"_Hey, you!" he called again, when she blatantly ignored his first shout and kept riding around._

"_What you want?" she asked, pulling up into his front yard. He could see that she had ringlet curls the color of chestnuts and her eyes were sickeningly blue, like one of those porcelain dolls his aunt always had. _

"_You'd do good to stay out of my damn yard." he spoke harshly. He had a feeling he didn't come off as macho as he'd wanted to – he was always really bad at being mean to the younger kids. Merle was better at that – explains why he was still in juvie. _

"_And what if I don't want to?" the girl asked. Spunky little thing. She couldn't have been older than 10 at his best guess._

"_I'll go get my gun and then you'll learn real quick." he said, bluffing. The only gun he had was a pop-gun he got at the dollar store when he was 11. Merle threw it and broke it a long time ago._

"_Yeah, well you'd have to catch me first." she smiled proudly, motioning to her small, pink bike. Daryl laughed. She was funny._

"_Hmph. My name's Daryl, and if you get your head on straight you'll stay outta my yard and away from me." he said, heading back into the house._

"_My name's Molly, and boys have cooties anyway."_

–

"Daryl, you in there?" Rick asked, waving a hand in front of his face in an effort to break him of his trance. They'd been walking through woods in a group for about 10 minutes. Rick was in the front with Daryl on his right, Maggie was in the middle, and Glenn and Molly were flanking.

"Yeah. Don't worry 'bout me." he spoke gruffly, irritated at himself for letting his mind slip away like that. That could cost someone their life, and he wasn't about to let it happen again.

"Molly said we're gettin' close so we need to be payin' more attention to what we're doin'. Keep an eye out for any signs of movement. We can't be gettin' caught with our asses out, ya hear?" Rick spoke quietly but directly.

"You see any walkers when you's up here by yourself?" Daryl asked Molly, wondering to himself how the hell she got around without getting bit or otherwise picked off.

"Ain't seen but two in this town. I think someone must be livin' in a building here somewhere. I've seen traps but I ain't stupid enough to go near 'em." she spoke, her accent familiar and soothing. "There's a pharmacy a little ways down this street, and beside the pharmacy is a little store. Ain't got a whole lot to choose from, but I don't think many people been there yet." She spoke matter-of-factly and knowledgeably.

The group broke through the forest line and looked up and down the street cautiously. There weren't any walkers to be seen, nor any dead bodies to be accounted for. It was strangely unsettling to the survivors who were used to breaking into chaos or at least a stray group of stragglers.

"Down there." she motioned to the pharmacy at the end of the street. Daryl watched as she scouted along the ground for something. She bent over to pick up a heavy pipe of sorts as a weapon, and he stared at her for a second too long.

"Take a fuckin' picture, Dixon. Damn."

He grunted in ignorance and headed off toward the pharmacy, Rick, Glenn, and Maggie not far behind. He tried to play it off like nothing happened but his face felt hot, so he knew it was a dead giveaway that he'd been paying a little too much attention to her assets. He scolded himself for thinking with the wrong head and continued on with a renewed determination to simply collect supplies.

The truth of the matter was that Daryl didn't know how to act around Molly anymore. She was always his kind of side kick when they were younger, and it wasn't until he was 22 and she was 16 that any remote connotation of romance entered the picture between them.

–

"_Where we goin'?" Molly asked, her curls bouncing up and down as they drove down the bumpy backroad in Daryl's pick-up truck. The corners of his lips tucked into a smile and he thought before answering._

"_It's a damn surprise girl. Hold your fuckin' horses." he laughed, and she pouted loud enough that her disappointment was audible. She had always hated surprises and he knew it._

_He had become somewhat of a guardian of hers a couple of years after she had moved in. Her father worked a lot and he ended up spending more and more time playing her stupid tea party games and board games than he would like to think about. By the time he was 18, you couldn't tear them apart. She followed him around like he was the older sibling she never had. What he did, she did. He gave her her first drink of alcohol, her first cigarette, and helped her shoot her first bb gun. None of these things stuck, but he had been there for all of them._

_That day happened to be her 16__th__ birthday. Daryl hadn't ever had enough money to get her a gift before, but this year he'd got a good job as a mechanic and had saved a little to take her to a movie for a special treat._

_As they pulled into the drive-in, her eyes lit up. She had only been here once before and he couldn't get her to shut up about it, so he figured this was the best he could do._

"_It ain't nothin' special, just some action movie, but I know how you like the drive-in." he said shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. To his surprise, she scooted over into the middle seat and gave him an awkward side bear hug, accompanied by a kiss on the cheek._

"_It's perfect!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together in excitement. She hopped out of the truck and lowered the tailgate so that they could sit in the bed of the truck and watch the movie – that was her favorite part of the whole thing. There were a couple of other trucks around with high school couples making out in the beds, but Molly didn't seem to notice. He did, however, and it made him a little uncomfortable. He couldn't exactly pinpoint why._

"_You okay?" she asked, as the movie started. He looked at her and nodded curtly. She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow, confused. "Did I do somethin'?" She asked, and it pained him a little to see her think that she did something wrong._

"_Not a thing, chicken wing. Watch the movie, girl." he said, putting his arm around her and pulling her close to him, protectively. As he did this, he noticed his pulse quicken and he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. _

"_What the fuck?" he thought to himself, wondering why in God's name he was acting like a fuckin' moron. He heard a woman moan in the truck next to him and felt his face get hot. Maybe that was why – people all around were doing stuff she shouldn't have to see or know about. Maybe he was just being protective._

_No – that couldn't be it. He'd never felt this weird around her before, so conscious of his own actions. He kept second guessing his moves like he never had – should he have his arm around her? Is that okay?_

"_Fuck, Dixon, what are you doing?" he thought. There was no way. Sweaty palms, racing pulse, confused – not Molly. Any girl but her._

He knew better, though, and that was just the start.

–

Daryl pushed open the door to the pharmacy, slowly but surely, to make sure that there wasn't anyone inside – dead or alive. When he heard no shuffling and saw no sign of movement, he signaled that it was okay to enter and start scavenging for supplies. Molly had been right – it didn't look like this place had been touched, minus a few bottles that were scattered on the floor. Fuckin' goldmine.

He watched Molly closely, as she pulled down bottles of antibiotics and handed them to Maggie in an effort to get as many medical supplies as possible. She was trying hard to make a good impression on Rick, and it seemed to be working.

"Anything else worth takin'?" Maggie asked, looking around at the others. Rick shook his head and Daryl tried to see if there was anything else that could be used. Coming down the hygiene aisle, he spotted a box of condoms and his mind briefly skated over the idea of grabbing them. He shook the idea from his head and mentally slapped himself for being indecent.

The group pushed out of the pharmacy and headed across the street to the small store to see what they could find. It looked relatively untouched, as had the pharmacy, so Daryl took this as a private reprieve on reality and let himself sink into his thoughts.

To address Molly as his friend, or as something more than that? Reality was that he hadn't seen her since the apocalypse started, and even before that they were in a grey area of their relationship. Romantic? Friends? Survivors? He didn't know what their relationship was now or how she had changed in the past year.

Regardless of where they stood, he was never the sentimental, trusting, gushing, touchy-feely type, and that sure as hell wasn't going to change anytime soon. He put the thought train on hold and went on with the task ahead of him.

This was going to get interesting.

* * *

**If you guys are diggin' the story, let me know. If not, let me know what I can change or do differently in the future! I'd really appreciate your help :)  
**

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. But I was sure we could see a new start

**MAR76 – I hope you like this chapter! I promise it won't take long for them to get reacquainted :)**

** – There will be another update today probably, let me know what you think! I'm glad you enjoy it. I really like the post-season 3 because it gives me freedom.**

**Leyshla Gisel – I put Glenn's hat back on him because I think it's adorable on him, that's the only reason. And I guess we'll see if he's literally Molly's first everything :D**

**zaii – Thank you so much! I hope you like it!**

After the supply run had been completed, Molly was allowed to return to the prison with the group. She had followed obediently as they walked back to their vehicles from the town they'd rummaged through. The length of the walk back was intensified by the electricity she felt as Daryl walked close behind her. She was hyper-aware of his presence and found herself thinking that if he accidentally brushed up against her, sparks would physically spew everywhere.

What were the chances that Daryl Dixon would stumble upon her in the middle of the fucking woods? If she had ever believed in fate, that would have been a perfect example. Molly shook her head as she thought about their past together and what a sick joke it was that they would find each other in a world that had always done its best to keep them apart.

_The first time Molly snuck out of her house for any reason at all, she was 17 years old. She left her window cracked after hopping out of it so that she could climb back in during the early hours of the morning. Tiptoeing through the dirt she called a backyard, she entered the woods and walked over behind Daryl's trailer, where a fallen tree lay obscured by brush and other trees that still stood._

_Taking a seat on the rotting wood, she sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. On top of the fact that she hated to wait, it was chilly outside. It wasn't long before she heard a twig snap in her immediate vicinity and a brooding figure sat down beside her._

"_Didn't mean to take so long. Merle came in drunk as a fuckin' skunk and I had to deal with him." he apologized in his typical manner – indirect but sincere. Molly nodded and gave him a small smile. _

"_Why'd you ask me out here anyway?" she questioned, curiosity playing on her features. Something about this situation made her heart race and she wrung her hands a little in anticipation. _

_Daryl scratched the back of his neck awkwardly before responding, "I ain't got any business hangin' out with a girl like you." That wasn't quite what she was expecting._

"_The hell you talkin' about? We been doin' the same things since we was little." Molly voiced her opposition hurriedly. What was his fuckin' problem? _

"_People are talkin' and your daddy ain't happy 'bout me hangin' around so much." he mumbled. _

_There it was. It was true that people had talk about their unlikely friendship since she'd gotten into high school. People assumed the worst since he was 6 years her senior and that had always pissed Molly off. Nothing had happened like that between them and it wasn't fair that this was affecting their relationship._

"_He ain't said nothin' to me. I think you're crazy." she said, huffing. She re-crossed her arms in emphasis._

"_How fuckin' thick are you, girl? We can't do this no more." Molly could tell that he was only getting sour to try to get her to walk away from him. It had never worked before and it wasn't going to work now. It didn't matter to her what people were saying. Not one person in the world could make her leave Daryl Dixon alone._

_She looked over into his blue eyes that were somehow even more striking in the moonlight. Truth was that she liked what people were saying. It made her feel good and she liked entertaining the thought that people thought she was with him in a more romantic sense. He squinted at her, as if trying to discern the thoughts that were going through her head. _

_Gathering up all the courage she could find in her system, she said, "Well, if people are talkin' so much, why don't we give 'em somethin' to talk about?"_

_Daryl looked like she'd slapped him across the face. "You fuckin' me, right now?"_

_She shrugged and sighed. She then turned her focus to a leaf that was fluttering beside her boot. The situation had turned awkward now that he hadn't been as open to the idea as she had expected him to be. Surely that's something he wanted? She saw the way he looked at her, felt his sweaty palms when she got a little too close._

_Daryl sighed and nausea consumed her. What a fuckin' idiot she'd been to expect him to be interested._

_Before she could form her next thought, her face was in his rough hands and his lips were crashing onto hers with urgency she couldn't believe was real._

The different bags she was carrying seemed to gain more weight with each step she took, and she was relieved when they came upon a green SUV and a motorcycle she recognized as being Merle's. Making a mental note to ask where the old asshole was, she put her bags in the hatch of the SUV before standing back and sighing, crossing her arms over her chest. It seemed like overthinking was one of her developing hobbies lately.

"You ridin' with me or what?" Daryl said, mimicking her dissatisfied posture.

She eyed him closely. "That ain't a problem with you?"

Daryl nodded toward his bike as if to tell her to get on. Rick, the girl (who she had learned was called "Maggie"), and the Asian kid (called "Glenn") piled into the SUV after they had deposited the load of supplies in the hatch and closed it securely. Rick started the car and rolled down the window.

"See y'all in a few. Stay close, be careful."

Daryl nodded and climbed onto his bike. Molly pursed her lips and got on behind him. She held onto the seat instead of Daryl because having aching knuckles tomorrow would be so much less excruciating than having to endure the awkward situation that could result if she put her arms around him.

"Arms around me, girl." he said, smirking. Chills ran up and down her body as she felt that familiar tug low in her abdomen. She snaked her arms shyly around his midsection and leaned forward into him.

"Better?" she asked quietly, her hot breath on his ear. He swallowed hard and revved his bike before taking off after the SUV.

It could always be worse.


	5. Don't hold a glass over the flame

**A lot of you have requested more backstory in the form of flashbacks – I tried a little harder to put some more flashback in this chapter. Hope you enjoy :)**

–

"_Daryl, you sure this is a good idea?" Molly whispered nervously, a twig snapping under her feet. It was pitch black outside and they were sneaking through the woods as carefully and quietly as they could._

"_Calm down, girl. You act like we're doin' somethin' crazy. I'm just takin' you for a ride." Daryl grabbed her hand and led her out of the woods and around his trailer. They made a break for his pick-up and she threw herself up into the passenger seat without thinking twice._

"_Where we goin', anyhow?" she asked Daryl as he started the truck and backed onto the dirt road beside both of their homes. _

_A smirk formed on Daryl's features and her heart jumped into her throat. Since she'd graduated high school and was treated as more of an adult, she'd been spending her time doing more adult things – and number one on that list was Daryl Dixon._

_Each time they spent time alone together it was more intense than the time before. She'd wanted to give people something to talk about, and they'd done just that. Just the week before they'd been fooling around in the bed of his truck by an old gas station and a police car busted them. That had been a fun one to explain to her daddy._

"_What you got in mind, Dixon?" she spoke coyly, her voice imitating a purr. _

_Before she knew it, he put the truck in park and turned it off. She looked around and took in her surroundings: a lake that looked as if it were made from glass, thousands of stars, and a small cabin over to the left._

"_What-?"_

"_My uncle's huntin' cabin. He ain't usin' it, so I reckon we could be here a couple of hours without gettin' into too much trouble."_

_Molly's heart was beating fast in her chest and she didn't know what to say. She was excited, but nervous. She had never been somewhere like this with a guy, and even if she had, no guy could compare to Daryl. Before she could pry the door open, Daryl had already walked around and opened it for her. This was something he'd always done but lately it meant something different to her._

"_You got a key?" she asked, as if Daryl hadn't thought about that._

"_Nah, but I got a hairpin, and that's just as good." he fidgeted with the door for a couple of minutes until he heard the tumblers click. "And that's how you pick a lock." he said, proud of himself. Molly gave him a smile and headed into the cabin, her heart still racing at a million miles a minute._

"_I'd give you the grand tour, but there ain't much to see." he spoke, looking around the room. Molly was pleased with it, however. It was quaint, and she liked that. She smiled at Daryl and took a seat on the edge of the bed that was in the corner of the room._

"_It's cozy." she spoke simply, as he headed over to join her. As she felt his weight indent the bed, she became aware of her sweaty palms and dry mouth. She and Daryl had messed around plenty before, but it had never felt this way. Why today? He had been her first kiss, her first trip to third base, her first experience with oral sex – all she had left was her virginity. Was that what was going on today?_

_She swallowed hard and looked at Daryl. He looked confused, as if he could read her thoughts._

"_You doin' alright?" he asked shyly, putting a strand of hair behind her ear._

_Molly nodded and proceeded to think. She wanted to say something, anything, but she didn't know what to say without sounding insensitive. She took her chances anyway. "What you doin' with me, Daryl Dixon? We been foolin' around a long time but this is somethin' different. This is somethin' you only do when you love somebody." she crossed her arms matter-of-factly._

_Daryl sniggered and she shot him the most offended look she could muster._

"_You stupid, girl? I ain't 'bout to say it out loud, but you can assume what you want." he kicked off his boots and looked at her again, appraising the situation for what it was._

"_Why won't you just say it?"_

"_Why won't you?"_

"_Ain't the talkin' type. I'd rather show you."_

_His words hung in the air, weightless. Molly didn't know what to do with herself other than look at him blankly. He'd just indirectly admitted that he loved her. He loved her. Daryl Dixon, the man of no words and even fewer feelings __**loved**__ her. Realizing she'd been holding her breath, she exhaled and shakily scooted a little closer to him._

"_You wanna show me?" she asked, her voice trembling. Nothing else they'd done had this much riding on it. She'd never seen this side of him and to be honest, it made her a little nervous. She wasn't used to him openly sharing affection, and this was the ultimate act of affection- for her at least._

_Daryl closed the space between them and hungrily kissed her questioning lips. "I'm gonna show you, if that's something you want." he mumbled against her cheek, his scruff tickling her face. She breathed in the familiar scent of tobacco and gasoline, and small moan escaped her lips. She whispered a hesitant "yes" into his ear and he pulled her lips to his for a second kiss._

_Molly's arms wrapped around his neck and he gently lowered her to the bed, climbing on top of her. She moaned into the motion and a gruff laugh escaped Daryl's lungs. He undid her jeans as she pulled off his dark blue work shirt. He bit his lip and looked at her with longing before consuming her in another earth-shattering kiss. She emerged, breathless, and ready to go further with him. She wriggled out of her jeans and underwear and flicked the fastener of his belt open. He groaned as she stroked him a little more particularly than usual and then motioned for him to get his pants off – and soon. _

_He took no time in obeying her and pulled his jeans and boxers off in one go. He tugged at the edge of her lacy tanktop and she pulled it over her head, leaving her in only her bra. Daryl looked her up and down, taking in what he had wanted to see for so long. This was the most of each other they'd ever seen, and it was only at this thought that Molly began to get shy. A blush crept to her face and she bit her thumb while looking away. Daryl understood and moved to her, placing a rough hand under her chin and lifting her eyes to his._

"_Come on, girl. Don't be shy." he whispered, and ghosted his lips across hers. She shivered under his light touch and brought her body closer to his. He shifted his weight onto hers and his hands did things to her she'd never felt before. Her hips moved against his hand and she was overwhelmed by the intensity of the feelings that rose up inside of her. Daryl licked up and down her chest as he continued moving his fingers in and out of her, teasing her insides._

"_Daryl..." she whispered, and he took this as his cue to pull his hand away. Her breathing was ragged and Daryl was ready if she was ready. He put his hand to her face and kissed her gently as a form of reassurance._

"_If you don't wanna, all you gotta do is say." he told her, his eyes running over her face in search of any sign of hesitation. She nodded and pulled his hips closer to hers in an effort to get him to understand just how much she wanted it and just how right it felt to her._

_Daryl nodded and flipped his hair out of his face, a small smile playing on the corners of his mouth. He moved so that his legs were in a comfortable place and then placed himself at her entrance. He slowly lowered himself into her, a few hisses of pain escaping her mouth as he did so. Each time he would pause for a moment and then keep going, before he pushed himself all the way in, eliciting a groan of pleasure from him and a gasp of surprise from her._

_He looked down at her face which was still surprised held a little pain. _

"_It's okay." she whispered, placing a kiss on the side of his face in encouragement. He slowly began pushing and pulling himself in and out of her, and he could tell that after a minute or two she began to enjoy it. Her muscles relaxed and he could feel her move her hips with his in a slow, drawn out rhythm that perfectly matched the moment. Her hands moved up and down his back, leaving a scratch here and there when he bucked into her particularly hard._

_She sighed into his neck and tugged on his hair as he started thrusting deeper and faster into her. His length shoved as deep as he could get it, he moaned in euphoria and the sound drove her wild. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him as deep as she could stand it before speaking a few sporadic words, "I'm gonna.. I don't... I can't." _

_Daryl shushed her softly and made his movements fast and calculated. Sweat dripped from him and landed on her chest, and she could feel him release inside of her. She let herself go at that point and they came to a halt together, Daryl collapsing and breathless._

–

Molly woke up from her nap in a cell in the prison that Daryl and his group called 'home'. She rose from her bottom bunk in a cold sweat and wiped her head. Her breathing was still hard and she was glad she didn't share the room with anyone just yet.

"That musta been some kinda dream you had there." Daryl snorted from the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. He leaned against the frame of the door and looked her up and down. She sighed and wiped her forehead again.

"I guess. Wasn't much." she said, suddenly shy. If he had any idea that her dream had been about their first time together, he'd probably walk away and never speak to her again. He looked skeptical.

"How'd you get out?" he asked, changing the subject – much to Molly's appreciation. He could always sense when she didn't want to talk about something, and time didn't seem to have diminished that ability any. She considered the question carefully for a moment, pursing her lips. She folded her arms over her chest.

"I got the hell outta Athens as soon as the outbreak started. Fuckin' hobos were grabbing and eating students and I took my car and got out of there. Said, 'hey! Atlanta seems like a great idea!' except for the fact that it was a concrete death trap. Almost got bit tryin' to get outta that hellhole. After that I went back home. Y'alls house was gone, but I found my daddy and brother. We headed back down this way and headed into the farmlands lookin' for shelter... After that, I was on my own. Our car was out of gas so I had no choice but to keep on foot." Molly explained, her hands gesturing here and there about the things she'd seen and gone through. She then continued, "I found a tree house behind some shithole trailer park and went out for supplies every now and then. A couple herds walked through but I made it through unscathed, however unlikely that sounds. Day before yesterday, I guess, a bunch came through and damn near ripped down my tree house."

Daryl looked at her with eyes that seemed a little softer than she'd previously seen. "A lotta shit out there." he grumbled, shifting his weight on the doorway, and scratching his back on the corner of the concrete.

"Yeah, you don't have to tell me nothin'."

"What about your folks?" Daryl asked the inevitable question. She'd mentioned her family, but skipped the part where they were taken down or bitten.

"Dad went down first. Got bit at a farm we were searching for supplies." she shook her head, thinking about what happened. She could tell that story, but she wasn't sure she could relive what had happened with her brother.

"We holed up in a barn after Dad passed to try and stay sane for a few days. Adam went out to collect some wood and never came back. I waited for a week until I was starved out and went to look for shelter. Found him gnawing on some poor bitch's face. I had to stab him with his own hunting knife that I'd brought from the barn." She couldn't keep it together so she put her head in her hands and tried to regain composure and regular breathing. It had been a long time since she thought about what happened to Adam, and at that point she was consumed in grief. She hadn't had a moment since he died to actually mourn him.

She could hear Daryl shift uncomfortably in the doorway. She expected him to walk away until she felt a weight in the bed next to her and a hesitant arm around her shoulders. His rough hand grabbed her opposite shoulder and brought her closer to him.

"Wish somethin' coulda been done. But they're better off than bein' in this hellhole anyway." he grumbled awkwardly. Where most people would find that offensively insensitive, it was ridiculous how much comfort Molly got from hearing Daryl say those words.

Maybe things hadn't changed as much as she thought they had. Maybe the world that they lived in now made him more appreciative that she was alive and present instead of being concerned about whether or not she was better than him.

"_Which," she thought sincerely, "I am not."_


	6. Don't let your heart grow cold

**A little more today! Expect a Daryl Point-of-View next time ;)**

* * *

Daryl sat with Molly for a while before he muttered some excuse about going out to look for meat. She nodded at him as he left and silently hoped that he knew how much that had meant to her. Wiping her eyes, she sniffed once more and decided that enough was enough. It was time to get up and help out. Sulking wasn't going to get her far with these people.

Leaving her cell, she walked out onto the second floor of their block of the prison and looked around. There were quite a few people meandering below, having casual conversation and playing games with each other. Some of the men seemed to be organizing an effort to secure the rest of the prison, and she could hear some women talking about what should be done for dinner. Too many mundane topics for her to handle. She spotted Maggie talking to Glenn down the walk and approached her with a shy smile.

"What could I do 'bout a shower 'round here?" she asked, gesturing to the filth that was matted in her hair, under her nails, and ingrained in her skin. Maggie returned her smile and nodded.

"There's a shower room down the hall there. Go downstairs, walk through that doorway to the left, and the shower room is the first on the right." she gestured toward each of the directions she'd described. "There should be towels in there already. Probably shouldn't take anymore than 10 minutes, mind." She tacked on with a smile.

"Thank y'all a ton." Molly replied, heading over and down the stairs to try to find the shower room. She waved at them as she walked down and passed through the group of people talking about their evening activities and continued on through the door Maggie had indicated. Sure enough, the first room on the right was a huge shower room and a tall stack of white towels stood by the front door. Molly grabbed a towel and held it to her nose, taking in the clean scent that wafted from it. She walked to the back of the shower room and threw the towel over the door so that it would stay and not be soaked while she showered. She then removed her shirt, boots, pants, and underwear before placing them in a neat pile beside the shower.

Molly sheepishly turned the water on, steam almost immediately erupting from the showerhead at the top. She placed her hand in the water and almost screamed at how wonderful it felt. Warm water – what a miracle. She stepped into the shower, not wanting to waste another minute of the luxury she'd just been afforded. Twirling in the small stall, she watched as the dirt and grime pooled around her feet and then swirled down the drain. Good riddance.

Molly began to sing softly as she massaged her scalp and her shoulders. It was an old folk song her mother had sung to her before she'd passed when Molly was 5. She was amazed she even remembered the tune, let alone the words. Her voice carried well throughout the echoing room and she enjoyed how free she felt in the ironic confines of a prison. How had she gotten so lucky?

After a few more savory minutes of standing in the steam, she tore herself away from the shower and promised her that if they accepted her here, she could at least take a 10 minute shower a couple of times a week. Turning the water off, she grabbed her white towel and padded her face off, before drying her hair and the rest of her body. It was only then that she realized she hadn't grabbed any clothes because she didn't have any. Molly bit her lip and tiptoed out of the stall, grabbing her dirty clothes. She peaked out into the hallway where she heard voices. Daryl was standing near the exit of the main room, talking to a woman with a very short pixie cut. Molly's brow furrowed and confusion flooded her head before she shook her head, dismissing the possibility.

She cleared her throat and the two looked in her general direction. As water dripped from the ends of her hair, she bit her lip and asked sheepishly, "Are there any clothes I could borrow? I didn't have a chance to grab not one bit of my stuff." The woman gave her a look that she couldn't quite read before nodding and then walking out of the room, pointedly running her hand down one of Daryl's arms. Molly gave him a look that was less than inviting, but he walked over anyway.

"Who's that?" she questioned curiously, her eyes darting all over his face as if to read deeper into his reaction than into his words. She knew better than to think that Daryl would tell her even if he was seeing someone, so she kept looking for any trace of guilt or revelation. She found none.

"Name's Carol." he shrugged, narrowing his eyes a little. Goddamn his gift to read her no matter what she did to conceal her thoughts. Molly grabbed her towel tighter and returned the look he was giving her.

"Ain't none of my business, I guess." she sighed, and looked down the hallway to keep herself from getting too touchy or saying something she'd regret. She heard him lean against he wall and scuff one of his boots up the side of the concrete. They stood there in an awkward silence until Carol came back down the hallway with some fresh clothes.

"Thank you, I appreciate it." Molly said with true gratitude, however her current dislike for the woman.

"They're not mine, but you're welcome. You might remember to grab some the next time you shower." she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Great. The first day at the fucking prison and people already didn't like her. Carol looked back at Daryl and nodded toward the other room. He shifted his eyes and looked at Molly.

"You gonna be alright for a minute?" he asked, looking at Molly.

"I'll be right fine." she snapped, aggravated at the situation she'd never planned on having to deal with. Daryl fucking some old maid? Unexpected. She rolled her eyes and walked back into the shower room to put on her clothes and braid her hair.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm comin'." Daryl called, presumably to Carol, who Molly could hear walking down the hallway. Molly sighed and let the towel fall to the floor. In the mirror, she assessed the various scrapes and bruises she had attained during the past few days. Sighing heavily, she placed the shirt over her head and let it fall over her figure. It was much too large and didn't do much to make her look very healthy. A new pair of underwear and a ratty pair of jeans went on next, and then a pair of socks and her same boots. She twisted her brown hair into a messy braid at the side of her head and then continued out of the shower room. She was starting to get sticky from all of the left over moisture in the air, and she'd never liked that.

She continued down the corridor and then entered the main room again, this time seeing people trickle out into another room. She noted that it was probably almost dinnertime and she filed after them, not wanting to get left behind. "There should be orientation for this place or somethin'. Damn." she scoffed, getting in line behind an old man whose coke bottle glasses kept slipping down his nose. She crossed her arms in front of her and attempted to look forward in the line. Someone tapped her on the shoulder and she turned quickly.

"You don't take medicine, so they's no need for you to be in this line. Follow me." Maggie spoke, her voice dripping with honey. She led Molly up to the door the elderly were lined up and excused their way past them. They walked into what looked like an old cafeteria and Maggie gestured toward the tables. "Go ahead and get a plate and head out to one of them tables. Anywhere you like."

Molly smiled and thanked her again, before proceeding to grab a plate of food and sit at one of the empty tables. She silently hoped that no one would sit with her. She looked down at her plate and was surprised that it had a decent amount of food on it for somewhere that had been "running low on food". A good couple of spoonfuls of peas, a small strip of meat and a peach. Not so bad. Molly took her time eating and decided to familiarize herself with faces while she ate. Rick sat on the other side of the room with a small boy and a young blonde girl who was holding a baby. The blonde girl and the little boy talked and joked while Rick simply looked nervous and a little lost. The table next to them belonged to a motley crew of senior citizens who seemed to be telling old stories of theirs. She made a mental note to listen to them talking one day – she'd always loved stories. A table over from that was Glenn and Maggie's table. They sat with an old man who seemed to have a singular leg and Molly wondered what happened to him. Adjacent to their table was a table of women in their 30's, all chit chatting away about something Molly probably would never give two fucks about. The next table, however, was one that caught her eye. Daryl sat, eying her closely, as Carol picked at her food. Molly immediately looked away and regretted scanning the tables in the first place. Seeing Daryl with someone else, no matter what the back story, made her feel like she watched someone piss in her cheerios but had to eat them anyway.

She busied herself in rearranging the peas on her plate. Why did it bother her so much anyway? It wasn't like she staked a claim on him or anything. Realizing that she had formed the letter "D" with her peas, she shoved a spoonful in her mouth and resolved to ignore the situation for the time being. She was acting like a dumbass, and it was only one day in.


	7. I will share your road

**I'm so overwhelmed by how loyal you guys are to my story :) I really appreciate all of the reviews I've gotten. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! Here's the chapter I promised. (And for those of you worrying that this is going to be a Carol/Daryl story - this should ease your minds!)**

* * *

**Daryl's Point-of-View**

Daryl nodded and took a bite of peach as Carol rambled on about what she'd heard some elderly lady talking about this morning. Somethin' about a farm she used to live on and how peaceful it was, and how it reminded Carol of Hershel's old place. Daryl, however, wasn't listening very well at all. His attention was on Molly who was now paying more attention to her food than he was okay with. One measly second of eye contact and she was ignoring him again. And for what?

"You alright? You look a little... upset." Carol soothed, attempting to put a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off angstily and sighed.

"I ain't no pet. I'll be fine. Don't need to rub on me." he mumbled in protest, finishing his peach. Carol flinched back toward her own food and sighed at the space between them that he'd created with his words.

"I was just trying to help." she spoke softly, making Daryl slightly regret his brash actions. Only slightly. He knew that she was going to play the guilt game, and he wasn't up for it today. He'd been on edge for the past 24 hours and her stomping on his nerves didn't make him feel any better.

"Yeah, well." he said, and then put his fork onto his plate. "I'm gonna head on up to my perch. Figure I should get ready for first shift tonight."

Carol nodded and her eyes followed him as he got up. She looked like a lost puppy and it made him want to kick something. He walked away without a word and put his plate on a cart by the door before glancing back at the room. Molly's eyes darted away, but he knew she'd watched him all the way across the cafeteria. A smirk licked at his lips as he walked out of the room.

He made his way up the stairs and to his perch so he could sort out some of the shit flowing through his own mind. He wasn't stupid and he knew what was going on between Carol and Molly. Some sort of female pissing contest about who could get and keep his attention. Daryl scoffed and went to messing around his bed, trying to get it just the way he liked it.

"It ain't no contest." Daryl muttered aloud to no one in particular.

Molly, who had managed to walk up to him without his noticing responded, "What ain't no contest? Since when you a schizo anyway? Talkin' to yourself." Daryl turned and faced Molly. She had her arms across her chest and her face was red.

"Shit with you an' Carol. I ain't no fuckin' prize to be won." Daryl admitted bluntly, watching for her reaction. She simply shifted her weight onto her other foot. Her head cocked a little to the side and it seemed as if she was trying to choose her words carefully.

"I know you ain't. Why would I leave your sorry ass to go to college if you was worth somethin'?" she hissed, digging into the painful wound she knew Daryl kept hidden at all costs. He decided to fight fire with fire.

"If I remember right, I's the one that told you to go back to your damn big city if it was so fuckin' important." he spat, anger boiling over. He knew he'd regret lashing out at her later, but at the time he felt like it was the world's best comeback. She flinched visibly and his heartstrings tugged more than he would've liked to admit.

"I told you how I felt and you pushed me away." she breathed, her words hanging loosely in the air around them, like wisps of smoke. "I asked you to bring your ass with me, and you said no." Daryl crossed his arms and mimicked her stance absentmindedly. Noticing how similar they looked, he threw his hands into the air in aggravation.

"We wasn't right for each other. You had bigger things to do than fuck some mechanic from next door, and you know it!" Each word gained more momentum he wasn't sure he wanted to throw at her, but he continued anyway. Just thinking about how much she'd tried to give up for him made him want to punch the wall behind him.

"Not right for each other? You fuckin' me, Dixon? How you even think that is beyond me." she said softly, hugging her shoulders to her body. Her body shook in anxiety and she breathed in deeply in an attempt to corral her emotions. "I spent half my life followin' you around like some sick disciple. I loved every ounce of every bit of you and you loved me right back. Don't fuckin' say you didn't, because I know better. Remember your uncle's cabin? Remember the day I left for school the first time? The time you came to see me in Athens? You wouldn't have showed up if we wasn't right for each other from the ground up." she heaved, the tears in her eyes prepared to spill over at any second. It was obvious he'd picked the wrong day to argue with her, and he knew he should have let her settle at the prison before opening up such a can of worms. He sighed and put his hands in his pockets.

Molly sat down on the floor, her palms hard-pressed to her eyes. She looked so stressed out, so upset. "Listen... I know I ain't been the best to you, but I do want you here. I didn't know what to think when we found you. In one fuckin' piece. I just..." he let out an exasperated sigh, "I need time. This thing you think I got with Carol – it ain't even a thing to me. Too mopy for me." he joked a little, trying to lighten the mood. Molly pressed her palms harder still to her eyes.

"Let go 'a them pretty blues, girl. You gonna go blind." he spoke softly, trying to backtrack. He took a few steps toward Molly before crouching in front of her and pulling her palms from her eyes. "Maybe I shouldn't 'a said nothin' yet. You had a rough couple days and I get it. I just can't deal with two women makin' me feel guilty for doin' nothin'. I ain't with Carol, and I ain't with you. I'm just Daryl. Don't know what you want with me anyway." he nudged her cheek with his hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She finally lifted her eyes and looked at him softly. It was obvious that she wasn't happy about his last sentence, but she nodded anyway.

"I'm on watch, but you might come out later if you ain't doin' nothin' else. It ain't so exciting out there." he invited openly, hoping that he'd managed to patch part of the wound he'd torn open. Molly raised herself from the ground and dusted herself off as Daryl stood back up.

"I'll see you later, then." she affirmed, and turned quietly before heading down the stairs, not looking back up. Daryl ran a hand through his hair and picked up his crossbow from its place beside his bed. "Just you an' me, girl." he whispered pathetically to his weapon and scoffed at the ridiculousness of his actions.

Slinking down the stairs and out to one of the guard towers outside, Daryl couldn't keep his mind from wandering to the time he'd visited Molly while she was away at college – the time he'd decided she had no business hanging around someone like him.

* * *

"_Daryl!" Molly called, a smile on her face as wide as Texas. Daryl bit his lip and put his truck in park, before getting out of the vehicle. Not even a second after his feet hit the asphalt, an eager pair of arms and a set of legs wrapped around him and an equally appealing face gave him the kiss he'd missed for so long – even if he wouldn't admit it._

"_I'm so glad you're here." she breathed, kissing him again. He lowered her slowly to the ground and hugged her to him closely for a couple of seconds. It was then he noticed the group of girls standing awkwardly on the sidewalk where she'd run from. In his hurry he must not have noticed them. Molly pulled out of the hug and followed his gaze to the small group. They were whispering and made odd facial expressions Daryl didn't quite understand. _

"_Daryl, these are my friends. Elizabeth -" she pointed to a tall redhead, "Jeanette –" a brassy blonde that looked like her thoughts weren't even worth a cent, "and Alicia," a busy looking brunette with glasses and a high ponytail. She smiled at them and back at Daryl, trying her best to ease the group into acquaintance with each other._

"_Daryl Dixon." he nodded at the girls, earning stares that made him more uncomfortable than he already was. Molly cleared her throat and laced her hands with Daryl's before pulling him toward the curb. _

"_Have you eaten?" she questioned elegantly. Daryl gave her an odd look. He didn't like lack of accent she'd adopted one bit. It annoyed him immediately and made him feel like an ignorant redneck. He nodded, even though he hadn't eaten all day. He'd been too nervous about driving out here to see her, and it was easy to see that there was good reason for him to be nervous._

"_Well, I was hoping we could go eat with my friends, but we can just do that another time." she spoke, and relief washed over Daryl. He didn't think he liked these girls very much. They sure as hell didn't like him, whispering and judging him silently. This is what he was afraid of. He squeezed her hand and nodded._

"_Nice meetin' y'all." he said, his drawl a little thicker than normal. He wanted to make the point that he didn't care what they thought or said, because it wasn't those girls he was there for. He was there for his girl. They waved and walked off, and he knew as soon as they were out of earshot, they'd be gossiping up a damn hurricane. Daryl leaned against his truck and looked at Molly._

"_You haven't eaten, have you?" she asked. She had always known him better than he wanted anyone to. She could read his damn mind and it drove him crazy sometimes. He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest._

"_I'm sorry they were a little quick to judge." she apologized for her friends, which made fire run through his veins._

"_It ain't them I'm worried 'bout. You dropped your accent like it was nothin'. No cursin' or nothin'. This place got to your head that fast?" he asked Molly, confused. She looked at him in bewilderment and touched her fingers to her lips as if she were shocked at his words._

"_I'm just the same as I've ever been. I just go to school somewhere." she snapped, her temper flaring a little bit in the moment. He could tell she knew exactly where he was going with his argument and she wasn't happy about it._

"_I ain't a fan of this new you. You ain't got any business around me." he growled defensively. He was starting to think those girls were right to judge him. Maybe this was better for her and what was meant for her. She had better people to meet and would have a lot more one day than a stupid redneck could ever give her. _

_Molly made a noise that suggested he should back up before she exploded on him. He looked at her and, sure enough, her ears were red and her eyes were watering. "How could you say that to me?" she asked him honestly. He shook his head and dug his boot further into the ground._

"_I'm only sayin' what everyone else is thinkin'. You run on off in your damn city, priss. I ain't stoppin' ya." he leveled, his response every bit full of the venom he was feeling. He could feel his eyes stinging but he wasn't about to cry in front of her. He wouldn't cry in front of anyone._

_Except maybe his steering wheel in his truck on his way home from the girl he'd never quite shake._

Daryl looked out across the land in front of the prison. Dead people walked all over it and all over each other, trying to get in to eat. All of this chaos and fear and he had still managed to stumble onto Molly. He still couldn't believe she was here. He was brought from his thoughts as boots scuffed up the stairs to the tower and stopped behind him.

* * *

"Too soon to come up?" she asked.

Time wasn't an issue when it came to her, he realized. He shook his head and motioned to a seat near his.

"Must'a missed me." he joked, trying to erase some of the awkwardness he'd created earlier.

"You ain't got a clue."

But he did.


	8. Hold me fast, hold me fast

**Another small chapter for today. Hopefully you'll like this one as much as the last! Get ready for action including the entire group soon.**

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Molly leaned back in the chair and propped her legs up onto the sill of one of the windows in the tower. She chewed her bottom lip, trying to think of anything that might lessen the intensity of the silence in the room. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears and wondered if Daryl could hear it, too.

"I didn't mean nothin' by it." she breathed finally. Daryl had been staring out the window at God knows what and his head snapped around when she finally spoke. He grunted in acknowledgment and looked back out the window. This wasn't going to be easy. She chewed her lip more and contemplated her next move.

"Them fucks just don't stop." he muttered quietly, breaking the silence again. "Even if their damn head's fallin' off, they just keep goin'. That's a goddamn miserable existence if I ever saw one." Molly wondered briefly where he was going with the conversation before he spoke again. "Some asshole shot Merle in the chest, left him to die and then walk again."

Molly's hand flew to her mouth. She had all but forgotten about Merle and kicked herself for calling him an asshole in her head earlier. She wriggled her ankle for a moment. "I'm so sorry, Daryl." she apologized sincerely, knowing exactly how it felt to have to put a brother down.

"When you told me what you did for Adam, it reminded me of Merle. I ain't sayin' they better off, but at least they ain't stuck out there chewin' on unlucky people, ya know? I try to think of it that way. At least we was the one's doin' it. Not somebody else. Fuckin' stupid, I know." he choked out, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers before sniffing loudly. Molly put her feet down on the floor and scooted her chair closer to Daryl's. She nervously placed her hand on his forearm that was resting on his thigh. He didn't flinch, which was a good sign in her mind.

"It ain't stupid. I know what you mean." she soothed, moving her fingers lightly over his arm, tracing a small scar that crossed over the top of his wrist. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply while Molly waited for him to speak.

"You know I ain't no good with feelings and that bullshit... but it's damn good to see you." he spoke quietly. Molly looked at him and took him in completely in that moment. His eyes were closed and he was leaning up against the window, a small breeze blowing the locks of his dirty hair. Molly's breath caught in her throat and she was reminded of the man she'd loved for so long and through so many things. She pulled her hand off of his arm and laid it in her lap.

"I-" Molly started to speak, but was interrupted by Glenn coming up for second watch. He walked in with a skip in his step but froze, realizing he may have interrupted a tender moment.

"That time already?" Daryl said, surprising her. She wished that they could return to the last couple of minutes and freeze themselves in the tower for a few more hours. She rose from her chair and smiled at Glenn, hoping that it had translated well with him. He seemed appeased and smiled back at her, his hand patting her back lightly on the way out. She turned to see that Daryl was following a little ways behind and begin to descend the stairs from the tower to the courtyard.

The sun had been down for a good while and there was a chill in the air she wasn't used to. Could the seasons already be changing? Surely not. She longed to be able to simply press a button and see what the weather held for them. She sighed and cursed herself for taking things like that for granted previously. As she walked quietly toward the prison, Daryl fell into step beside her. His crossbow made a mechanical noise every now and then, but other than that the only sounds around were their boots and the groans of walkers outside of the fence. Again she felt the electric that existed between them as they walked together, so close, but so far.

"You gonna be able to sleep alright?" Daryl asked, as they approached the door. He opened it for both of them and they continued into the main room. The activity was dwindling down and people had found their way back to their cells or to the shower room before bed.

Molly shrugged and looked up the stairs in the direction of her cell. "I think it'll be okay. I'm a hell of a lot safer than I was in my tree house, that's for damn sure." she answered, smiling down at her feet before looking back up at him. He looked like he was mulling something over in his mind, so she looked around at the people who were left in the room.

"You want me to sit with you a minute 'til you're settled?" he offered, putting his hand behind his head and scratching lightly. Molly had just spotted Carol across the way, eying them closely. She considered his offer for a moment before she caught his eye and nodded slightly in Carol's direction.

"As much as I'd like that, I don't want you in deeper dog shit." she said decidedly, a little more irritation coloring her words than she intended. Daryl followed her gaze and nodded, throwing his crossbow over his shoulder.

"Don't make no difference to me." he answered vaguely. Had he meant it didn't matter what she did, or it didn't matter that Carol was watching. Puzzled, she simply nodded and headed up the stairs. She could feel Carol's eyes burning into the back of her head as she rounded the corner and went to her cell. The mechanical clicking from earlier was still present and she smiled inwardly. She didn't dare look back at him until they entered her cell, where she busied herself by readying her bed. She heard him sit the crossbow down on the floor and lean against the doorway.

"Don't feel like you gotta babysit me or nothin'." she said. She'd didn't want to start her stay here by feeling like a burden to these people – especially Daryl. She rolled her ankle nervously and waited for Daryl to speak. His arms were crossed over his chest and he chewed the inside of his cheek in concentration.

"I wouldn't 'a offered if I didn't want to." he finally said. Molly looked down and tried to conceal the smile she so badly wanted to show him. She smoothed down the edges of her blanket and stood up, leaning against the top bunk of the bed.

"You just gonna stand there or you gonna come in?" she asked, the touch of her words a little more than friendly. Daryl caught the undertones and smirked. He entered the room very slowly and then turned, very carefully sliding down the wall opposite of her bunk. He crossed his arms across his chest and watched her curiously.

"What kinda game you playin', girl?" he asked, licking his bottom lip. The look in his eye was playful but stern. She thought carefully, not sure how she should respond to him. Surely he knew he wasn't just some game to her.

"You never been a game to me, Daryl Dixon. A puzzle, maybe, but never a damn game." she answered truthfully, honestly. She took a seat on her bunk and held onto the cool metal bar on the side. She let her head hang to the side and her braid fell in front of her body, hanging loosely.

Daryl shifted his legs and pursed his lips. "Hm." was all he could say. She met his gaze that had stayed on her the whole time - always assessing, always surveying. Molly looked at him anxiously. Didn't he have anything else to say? She heard people shuffling up the stairs outside and cleared her throat, suddenly nervous. Without looking at Daryl, she pulled her covers down and laid in her bed, pulling the blanket up to her chin.

She heard Daryl fiddling with something or other, but by that time she was nodding off into a fitful sleep laced with the faces over her brother and father.


	9. Cause I'm a hopeless wanderer

**Review, review, review, please :)**

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**Daryl's Point-of-View**

By the time Molly had completely gone to sleep, Daryl had situated himself against the wall and was dozing in and out of snoozeville. He had scattered dreams that consisted of happy times, somber times and plain-out awful times. He dreamed of many times with Molly, some with Merle, and more of his father. The sky was still dark when he was awoken by his own body jerking in reflex to a dream about his abusive dad. Breathing hard, Daryl scoffed and wiped his head which was beaded with sweat. Since the incident with Merle, he hadn't slept a full night. Choosing to shove his emotions down rather than replay the ordeal in his head, Daryl pushed his weight up the wall so that he was standing. He checked to see that Molly wasn't stirring in her sleep before he headed up to his perch to do whatever he could to keep his mind off of the past events that were dangling so uncomfortably in his subconscious.

Sometime between cleaning his crossbow and checking it for damage, he had passed out across his small bed. When he woke up, the sun was just beginning to peek through the windows of the C block, and he squinted as he looked into the light. He blocked his blue eyes momentarily to let them adjust to the early morning rays. Propping himself up on his mattress, he surveyed the situation below. No one really seemed to be stirring yet, but he could hear a very soft singing coming from the shower room. A small smile threatening to turn the corners of his lips, he stretched and stood up in full, his clothes from the night before falling back into place. He left his area and headed downstairs toward the singing. As he descended, he could smell something being made in the kitchen area – smelled like grits. He inhaled deeply and then continued on his way, his boots chunking heavily against the floor of the prison.

Even before he approached the shower room, he knew it was Molly he would hear. She had a voice that was quite unlike anything he'd ever been used to; sweet, gentle, and lilting. From the time she was young she had always loved to sing. Anytime or anywhere you could catch her humming a tune. There was many a rough night with Merle that had been cured by a caress from her hand and a melody from her lips. Daryl smirked at the thought and leaned against the wall outside of the room, listening to the song she was singing. The words were more melancholy than he'd ever heard her sing, but it was still beautiful nonetheless. He leaned his head back against the concrete and closed his eyes, letting the warm steam and siren song enchant his senses.

If he had been paying more attention, he might have heard footsteps down the hall and a nervous voice clear their throat.

"How ya doing?" Carol spoke sheepishly, a white towel and some spare clothes tucked under her arm. She looked down and petted the clothes, as if to distract herself from the mild awkwardness of the moment. Daryl raised his head from the wall and looked at her.

"I'm alright. You?" he inquired, not as much out of concern as out of obligation. Yes, he had been spending a moderate amount of time with Carol. Yes, she had developed feelings. He had developed feelings also, but of a different variety. He didn't know what to do in this situation. The only thing he and cupid had in common is that they were good with a bow.

"I suppose I could be a lot worse." she answered, putting her hand behind her neck. She looked at him and he knew that this conversation wasn't going the way she had wanted it to. Daryl chewed on his lip and nodded at her. She lay a hand on his bicep and he didn't pull away. Behind them, the shower turned off.

"Could we talk about this?" she asked, her eyes pleading with him. Daryl shifted his weight and looked at her, even though he didn't want to.

"What is they to talk about?" he asked, even though he knew what she wanted to talk about. He had hoped for so long that he could put off this conversation, even before Molly showed up. He had been slowly retreating from her for months, since Sophia was found in the barn. He made up his mind one night that he'd been unintentionally leading her on and needed to put a stop to it. He shrugged. He heard the stall open inside the shower room and made the decision that they should take their conversation elsewhere. He nodded toward the large main room and she looked down at her clothes in hesitation. She sighed and followed him as he walked out to the room and took a seat, her clothes and towel hanging from her arm.

Daryl sat on a chair near one of the windows of the room, letting light hit his skin. The warmth felt good and he soaked up what of the rays he could before he had to engage himself in more difficult conversation.

"Did I do something to you?" she asked him, very blunt about it, which he appreciated. He chewed his lip and considered the question. Stupid woman. Why was it that that was always the first question girls asked when you were having a serious conversation with them? Jumping to the damned conclusions. Daryl scowled.

"Didn't do nothin'." he muttered, not wanting to be as brutally honest as his gut urged him to be. If watching Merle with girls had taught him anything, it was not to leave any lose ends left untied or uncut. Carol looked crestfallen, but Daryl remained firm in his expression. He crossed his arms over his chest as per usual and looked around at the room. Several seniors were watching kids play a game of duck-duck-goose.

"I don't know, it just seems like you don't want to be around me. If I did something, I'd like for you to tell me so we could go back to just being... us." she spoke carefully, like she was treading on coals. His scowl deepened infinitesimally – us? Us was a word that suggested there was an actual item made out of the two of them, and as far as he was concerned he hadn't ever suggested such. He'd comforted her when Sofia turned and was a shoulder for her to cry on and rant to, but he had never hinted romantic feelings even in the slightest. Maybe she misread the meaning of the Cherokee Rose? Nah – surely his story had verified the meaning behind the damn thing. Plus it was in a fuckin' beer bottle. Daryl rolled his eyes.

"I said, you didn't do nothin'. Are all women fuckin' dumb?" he spat, annoyed. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration and grabbed a fistful. He knew that Carol was used to his outbursts and would not be as offended as others might be, but it fueled his anger further still when she flinched. He tried to compose himself as he watched Molly emerge from the direction of the shower room. She made awkward eye contact with him and he couldn't quite read what her expression said to him.

"_Well shit." _he cursed to himself.

"I just thought we were going somewhere. I told you when I lost Sophia that I couldn't lose you, too, and I meant it." she whispered, her voice cracking slightly with emotion. Daryl sighed resignedly.

"I ain't your boyfriend, lady. I'm here for ya, but I ain't your man or nothin'." he answered blatantly, assessing her face as he said the words. She didn't get upset, which surprised him. He cocked his head to the side and studied her face closer.

"I've known for a while it wasn't like that with us. I'd hoped – but I'm not a fool. I can tell when a man's not really interested. I had a marriage that was all about not being interested." she joked quietly, and he sympathized with the woman. Although he felt mildly bad, his innards relaxed in relief. That wasn't so bad. He watched as Rick entered the room with Carl and ruffled the hair on his head. Maybe they were fixing things, too. He looked back at Carol and replied gruffly.

"Well I don't know what to tell ya, then. You know I'm 'round here for ya, but I ain't tryin' to play no games with ya." he said, and Carol nodded.

"I didn't think -" Carol started, but was interrupted by Glenn busting through the door to the right of them.

"I think you guys might wanna see this – walkers – tons of 'em." he choked out, his face white and his breath shallow. Daryl could tell he'd run from his post outside to alert them. Some of the seniors looked around and spoke quickly in alarm but were immediately silenced by Daryl jumping up, shoving his chair out of the way and heading out. Hot his heels were Rick, Carol, Carl, and Molly.

As he opened the door, he realized that Glenn hadn't overreacted as he'd originally assumed.

"Fuck. You ain't kiddin'." he breathed, in awe of just how many of those geeks were by the fence. Molly's sharp intake of breath and Carol's hand over her mouth let him know that they knew exactly how serious this was.

He looked out at the walkers. He estimated there to be about 100 out there. The smell that was wafting his direction in the hot Georgia wind was atrocious. They were rearing there ugly fuckin' heads and clawing at the fence, and it was wavering dangerously. They had to do something – and fast.


	10. But do not tell me all is fine

**So glad you guys have joined me for another installment of this story :) I hope everyone is doing well! I went back to work this week so I apologize for the lack of updates – just remember that reviews and things motivate me! Enjoy!**

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Molly held her hand to her lips and felt the chapped skin as she looked out at the mass of biters threatening to destroy the metal fence. Her breathing quickened as she listened to the heated conversations between Rick, Glenn, and Daryl. Daryl insisted they start taking out the fuckers one by one but Rick wanted to more methodically attack. They argued aggressively back and forth for a few minutes, Daryl grabbing at his hair and Rick making pointed gestures toward the zombies at the fence.

"Maybe if you could finish in the next day or two we could get these assholes out of here before they rip down our barriers." Glenn inserted, pushing the two men apart. Daryl nodded and spat at the ground and Rick put his hands in his belt loops. He breathed in deeply and exhaled, considering the options that were available.

"Because we don't wanna run the risk of attracting more walkers, I think it's best if we just attack one-by-one." he conceded to Daryl's tactic, looking less than pleased with the solution he'd had to choose. Molly could tell he didn't want anyone getting hurt, and close combat wasn't going to help those odds. Rick kicked dust up with his boots and looked up at the group. "I'm gonna go on in and get the others – don't know how much longer that fence is gonna hold up." he breathed, looking warily at the wobbling wall of metal.

Molly's mind churned with the heat of the moment. There had to be a better way to do this than putting people up by the fence where they could readily be grabbed or bitten by a stray geek. She looked around the yard for something to use to combat the living dead. She gnawed on her bottom lip as Rick hurriedly discussed with Glenn and Maggie what to do while he was inside. Her eyes fell on Daryl, who was walking toward the fence, looking at the fuckers outside. She then looked over at the guard towers, through the yard outside, and then at the cars... That was it! The cars!

"Rick, I think I have a better idea." she interrupted, Rick's head snapping around in surprise. Glenn and Maggie looked at her expectantly, and she gestured toward the vehicles. "If I can get someone to let me out of the first gate driving one of the cars, I bet I could lure at least half of the sick freaks out of here. I'm sure I could find a CD hanging around, turn it up real loud, and drive through. Stop close enough to get 'em near the vehicle then go on some more. I might even get the balls to yell at 'em. That'd really get 'em riled up." she spoke excitedly. Her palms were sweaty and her mind was racing at a hundred miles an hour. Rick looked especially receptive to the idea – risking one instead of many of his own boded better with him than she'd realized it would.

"You ain't goin' nowhere!" Daryl argued, dust flying from his trail as he walked back toward her. She looked at him in distaste before looking back at Rick. He seemed to be mulling it over in his head and appraising the situation for what it was worth.

"You think you can get out of here and do this without gettin' yourself killed?" he asked, genuinely concerned for her being. She nodded fervently. Daryl scoffed and was visibly protesting with every ounce of his being. What was his problem? She'd made it on her own through a billion things that were worse than this. She wasn't gonna let a couple of biters tear down her newfound safe haven.

"You gimme the keys to your green SUV, a walkie, and I'll try to cut your problem in half." she bargained, sticking her hand out and waiting for Rick to grasp it. He looked at it for a second, his eyes briefly running over Daryl's angry figure. He was visibly shaking and this made the fire in her burn even hotter. She could do this – he didn't have enough faith in her.

Rick shook her hand and responded, his blue eyes glinting. "Thank you. You got yourself a deal, miss."

* * *

Half an hour later, all of the able-bodied persons in the prison were standing in the yard with guns or melee weapons in their hands. Rick hoped that it didn't have to come down to that and silently prayed to whomever was up there that the situation would be taken care of with the least resistance possible. The Georgia heat was almost stifling as Molly made her way toward the green SUV she'd been in earlier. She could now see that it was a Hyundai Tuscon and ran her hand absentmindedly over the metal brand tag. Her finger stung immediately and she pulled it away, trying to ignore the dull ache it left behind. She looked back at the small army of survivors and Rick waved, encouraging her. He walked toward the gate with Glenn and Daryl as they had discussed and got ready to let her out.

Getting in the car, she placed the walkie in the cupholder and gathered her thoughts. Daryl still hadn't looked at her when she started the car and pulled around to the front gate. She pulled up and gave the three men an extremely nervous smile. Rick was to pull the first gate open and Glenn was to run and open the second gate so that she could get out. Daryl was supposed to be a distraction by the fence so that none of the fucks got inside or too close to her while she was exiting. She breathed deeply and grasped the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She could hear the moans of the dead outside and the situation was becoming more surreal than she had expected.

"Ready?" Rick asked, interrupting her thoughts and poising himself to push the gate open. She met his eyes and did the same with Glenn, who was trying his best to give her an encouraging smile. Instead, it looked more like a boy that was trying to smile at someone who'd kicked his favorite dog. She smiled softly back anyway. She ran her gaze over to Daryl sheepishly. The scowl on his face was unmistakeable, but there was also a hint of fear. He was nervous for her, and as much as she didn't want it to, it made her heart ache for him. He'd lost enough. She wasn't going to be something else he could put in that category.

Sense of confidence renewed, she realigned her eyes to Rick's and nodded. "Be careful out there. Let me know if you run into any trouble." he said, before tapping his own walkie and looking back at Daryl and Glenn. "On my count, Glenn! Daryl, start making some noise!" he yelled, his voice cracking with anticipation. Daryl immediately began whooping and hollering and banging a crowbar against the fence in an attempt to distract all of the corpses that waited outside.

"One... two... three!" Rick yelled, and pushed the fence open with all of his might. Glenn darted out the gate before Molly could even press on the gas, and had the second gate open before she was halfway there. Daryl was doing a great job inciting bloodlust from the herd and for that she was thankful. She got out of the gate and slowed to a halt. She waited on Glenn to shut the second gate and run back inside the main one before she slipped a CD she'd found into the player.

"Please work..." she pleaded, her hands clenched together as the player in the car attempted to read the disk. A couple of minutes earlier she'd rummaged through all of the CDs she could locate in the car before she had selected an old Aerosmith CD. As the first notes of the first song rang out, she let out a sigh of relief. She looked around at the sorry fucks that were starting to take notice of the car and wander over curiously. About ten strays were slowly dragging themselves in her direction, and she smiled wickedly. She locked all of the windows and opened the sunroof before turning the volume up as far as it would go without bursting her eardrums. She watched as more of the creatures became aroused by her presence and hobbled over, unrelenting in their search for food.

It looked as if it was all on her now. She pulled the car forward about 15 feet before stopping again, a cloud of dust erupting around the biters who were following her in chaotic shambles. She watched carefully as, little by little, the dead fucks got closer to her. In her rearview she saw the people of the prison near the fence, some staring in horror, some with their eyes covered, and some with their hands clenched tightly in hope of a positive outcome for her. Focusing on the task at hand, she changed the song on the CD so as to keep the walkers distracted. She knew that if she kept this up, she could take him as far out as the old farm and then cut off on a back road, leaving them in her metaphorical (and probably physical) dust. She bit her lip and pressed the gas, propelling the car forward another 20 feet or so. She was surprised that the majority of them had torn themselves away from the fence and were now gaining on her car. Pressing the gas more steadily, she led the horde slowly down the entrance road to the prison as the actual prison shrunk in size and fell far behind her.

Letting a sigh escape her lips, she pressed onward still, the zombies still shambling behind. Their disjointed movements disturbed her much more now than ever previously because they were chasing her and her alone – nearly a hundred bloodthirsty ghouls.

**Daryl's Point-of-View**

"Sorry girl's gonna get her ass bit." he shrugged, standing beside Rick and Glenn who were watching anxiously. He wouldn't admit it, but he was sweating bullets inside. Molly had always overstepped her boundaries when it came to having balls, but this took the fucking cake. He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head as he watched the green SUV fade from view, more than three-quarters of the walkers in tow.

As much as he hated to admit it, her stupid idea had worked pretty damn well. Better than his ever would have. They probably would have lost a couple of people that day. He thought about it, and although he was glad everyone was safe, he would have rather lost a few then than have her surround herself by a herd of walkers – voluntarily. Dumb bitch.

Daryl watched as Rick pinched the bridge of his nose and dug in his pocket. He pulled out the old, beat-up walkie and turned it up before pressing the button down. "Molly – how's it lookin' out there?" he asked. The people around them hushed themselves so that they could hear what was going on. That's one thing Daryl had always hated about people – couldn't mind they own damn business.

After a minute of no answer, Daryl was put more on edge. He was immediately sweating and his pulse was racing. He fidgeted with his vest nervously, willing her to answer with every second that passed by. Daryl appraised the look on Rick's face. He looked pained, desperate – this made Daryl flinch inwardly. After another brief pause – during which worries of the worst pervaded his mind – the small walkie finally crackled, and a sweet voice answered Rick.

"I'm almost to the old farm. I lost a few on the way and some of 'em are a lot faster than others, but I think the prison is in the clear on this one." she spoke softly. Daryl couldn't hear the music anymore and thanked whatever holy being that was that she was smart and realized that loud music would attract walkers from all over – the last thing they needed. Hearing her voice put to rest a lot of the nerves in his body, but he could still feel bile creeping up the back of his throat. What if she didn't come back?

_**To be continued...**_


	11. When I lose my head, I lose my spine

**Thank you guys for always being so patient with me! I've had a lot going on between work and my personal life and I appreciate you – my amazing readers – for putting up with my delay. I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

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Molly looked in the rearview mirror at the herd of walkers that were quickly disappearing in a trail of red Georgia dust. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and pressed the gas down, willing the car to go faster so that she could get out of the range of the zombies she'd led around. She'd managed to get them all the way to the highway and heading an entirely opposite direction before she'd gotten a walkie call from Rick. From there, she'd found the fork of a backroad and took it. It had led her back to the main road she'd taken from the prison, and there was no sign of the walkers in tow – a very good thing.

Loosening her grip on the steering wheel and leaning back in her seat for the first time in the car ride, she allowed herself to think about the possibilities of what could have happened. She could have been scratched or bitten through her open windows. The car could have broken down. The sorry bunch of fucks could have surrounded her car. She could have run out of gas. Any number of things could have happened and all she cared about was keeping the damn prison safe. Outwardly she pretended to be upset that she put herself in such danger for a bunch of strangers. Inwardly she knew that the only reason she'd done any of it was so that she could protect Daryl. She felt one of her heartstrings tug and touched a hand to her chest. Inwardly, she was also glad that she had a shred of humanity left in her that would allow her to jeopardize herself for someone she cared deeply about.

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"_You gotta step down on the damn clutch first, girl! How many times I told ya that?" Daryl asked Molly pointedly and frustratedly, hitting his hand on the dashboard of his beat up pick-up truck. He blew through his lips widely, trying to release his aggravation on something other than the girl sitting in the driver's seat._

"_Why you yellin' at me for? I know what I'm doin' wrong!" she shouted, jerking the stick shift in the car and grinding the transmission with a terrible, awful, disgusting metal crunch. Daryl flinched visibly and ran his hand through his hair, grabbing a tuft in the back and tugging lightly. Molly sighed. They were both frustrated, it was hot, and he sucked at teaching her how to drive._

"_If you know what you're doin' so well then why am I fuckin' teachin' you?" he asked, his temper temporarily getting the best of him. He licked his lips and looked at her, eyes squinted in a scowl. Molly returned the scowl in the least attractive way she could, before crossing her arms over her chest and facing forward – anything so that she didn't have to look at him._

"_Maybe you should take your damn truck and go back to your house. I ain't got time to be so pissed off. I got... stuff to do." she said, bluffing. She had absolutely nothing better to do and would rather be doing nothing else, but if he didn't want to teach her, she was too proud to beg for him to stay. _

_The seconds ticked by and she stayed firmly in her spot, her blue eyes focused on the dirt road ahead of them. She heard Daryl shift in the seat next to her but didn't dare look over. She was too busy proving a point._

"_Girl, what you got to do that's better than me?" he asked coyly, taking her by surprise._

_There was no cure for that damn Dixon charm, and it had her lovesick from day one._

* * *

As Molly drove, she couldn't help but have a foreboding feeling in the pit of her stomach. It had been there earlier, with good reason, but the danger had since lessened considerably. Maybe her body was reminding itself not to let its guard down because there were still dangers lurking and prowling out there – and probably closer than she imagined.

Only a moment later she heard a gut-wrenching wheeze from the front of the car and it slowly started slowing down. Steam spouted from the front and sides of the hood and she beat her hand on the steering wheel angrily. Her heart was in her throat and she nearly vomited on the spot – what was she going to do? She didn't have a gun (not that she knew how to work one) and she didn't have any kind of melee weapon with her that she could think of. Surely she couldn't just sit there until the walkers came around. They would find her in a heartbeat.

As the car slowed to a complete halt, she racked her brain for an ideal escape scenario. As she tore apart the inside of the car looking for something to use as a weapon, it dawned on her that she still had a walkie with her and could radio Rick for help. Her heart calmed itself momentarily and she felt her adrenaline reach a peak as she picked up the beaten, black walkie.

She pressed down the button with force and choked out Rick's name into the small piece of primitive technology. She bit her lip and huddled down in the car, willing him with everything she had in her to respond. Her eyes darted quickly and searched her surroundings. She couldn't see any sign of life or... unlife for at least the next stretch of road and into the woods. There wasn't a breeze and no trees were swaying – this was good.

What seemed like forever had passed when Rick's voice responded to her call over the radio. "Molly? What's wrong?" he spoke, the concern evident in his voice. The man had a good intuition, she inferred. She cleared her throat and attempted to sound confident when she answered his question, although her voice trembled slightly with fright.

"The car broke down. I think I'm 'bout 3 miles away from the prison 'n to the north. The highway is at least 5 miles behind me so I'm feelin' okay about the distance between me and them biters but... I don't know that I can make it back on my own." she stammered, her bottom lip quivering. Reality was setting in on her and she wasn't quite sure how much longer she could stay composed.

Immediately the radio crackled, "Daryl's already on his way on his bike. We'll leave the car and go back for it tomorrow. We don't have enough daylight left to fix it right now." he answered soothingly, his voice a little less tense than had been before. Maybe at first he thought she'd been bitten; maybe he thought this was the least of the scenarios that could have played out.

"I know I just feel so... horrible... about..." she trailed off as she watched a lone biter stumble out of the woods on the opposite side of the road. Her mouth dropped open to form an 'o' shape and her breath caught in her throat. She watched as the thing shuffled across the road slowly, looking around with dead, inhuman eyes. It looked forward into the woods on the other side of her car, before sniffing the air idly. It looked around again, before it groaned loudly. Her own eyes were locked on the thing when it zeroed in on her location. She didn't know if it could smell her, or if it saw her, or if it could hear the monstrous rhythm of her heartbeat, but it was shambling toward her with an alarming hunger from which she had not previously seen.

"Molly?" Rick's nervous voice pierced the air that seemed to have thickened a million times since he'd last spoken. Her words were strangled in her throat and it was hard to breath, much less speak. A biter was coming at her with all intentions of breaking the thin glass of her window and gnawing the shit out of her head, and all she could do was shake and stare. She had no weapon, no way to kill it. What the fuck else could she do? Run? That was almost laughable.

As this thought graced her mind, the walker smashed up against the window and beat against the glass with a head that was halfway severed from the neck and with teeth that were blood-soaked and decayed. This fucker had to have been going for the long haul; she could smell the rotten flesh inside the vehicle. She flinched away from the window, a scream drowned in the paralyzed abyss that was her body.

It took all of her strength to pull the walkie to her mouth and press the button down, but before she could say anything, a bolt pierced the head of the geek outside of the car and it fell, motionless, into the soft southern dirt. A small yelp escaped her lips and she dropped the radio into her lap. Her hands covered her mouth as she looked over at the redneck on the Triumph.

She had never seen Daryl as the "knight in shining armor" type, but maybe she could warm up to it.


	12. So leave that click in my head

**Daryl's Point-of-View**

Daryl looked at the stunned girl cowering in the front seat of the SUV. If he cared less about her, there's no doubt in his mind that he'd have been a second too late. As soon as he'd heard her radio Rick, he'd jumped on his bike and rushed in her general direction, hoping to all that was holy that she would be okay for 5 minutes. He'd nearly busted his ass on the way to get her, too. Nobody made him as reckless as Molly, and it had always been that way.

Stepping off of his bike, he traipsed through the dirt to the car, stopping to kick the downed fucker that lay beside the SUV. "_Fuckin' prick,"_ he thought, before spitting distastefully on the mound of rotten flesh. As he raised his eyes to meet Molly's, he jerked the door open with such force he thought it might rip from the hinges. Regardless of how much he cared about her or didn't, he was pissed off at her behavior.

"You tryin' to fuckin' get yourself killed, girl?" he spat, venom lacing his gravely voice. Molly still had her hands cupped over her mouth, and her eyes were sweating quiet, hot tears. His heart pounded unmistakeably loudly as his demeanor softened. It was clear that she was scared shitless and he wasn't making it any better. Didn't change how he felt about it, however.

"I just got ya back. If you wanted to leave, all you had to do was say." he joked, trying to lift her spirits even minutely. Her hands lowered from her mouth and she gasped, trying to catch her breath between quiet sobs. Her blue eyes fluttered quickly from his own and down to his lips, and back up to his eyes. Had he imagined that?

"Come on now, girl. We gotta get back. It's gettin' dark, and where there's one walker, they's always more." he nodded toward his bike and reached out for her with one of his grimy hands. She placed her porcelain limb in his and he almost laughed at how the touch of her fingers still made his skin crawl. He tugged lightly, coaxing her from her seat in the car. She fell into his arms and immediately began to cling to him tightly. It had been a long time since anyone had hugged him. It had been an even longer amount of time since he'd hugged anyone back, but he did. He couldn't say that he was surprised, because knowing her inside and out had always come as naturally as breathing to him.

Placing a hesitant kiss on the top of her head, Daryl pulled away and grabbed her hand, leading her toward the black motorcycle that stood in the center of the road. He silently thanked a god he didn't believe in that she had been spared and vowed that she would never get that close to danger again if he could help it.

* * *

Once the pair had arrived back at the prison, Molly was welcomed with glowing praise and compliments from the people she had helped save that day. Daryl shielded her from the crowding people protectively, knowing intuitively that she was in a bad state. He hadn't seen her that shaken in a long time, and it made his nerves twinge in anxiety. Many people patted her on the back and others (among them Rick and Glenn) gave her appreciative hugs. She put on a brave face and smiled, but Daryl could see that the action didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Alright now, it's 'bout time for lights out." he rumbled, nudging past the group of people and tugging Molly softly behind. She hadn't said a word since he'd found her in the car and he was now extremely worried, no matter how much he didn't want to be. He'd always been a loner – concerned with himself and his brother and that was it. Molly had come into his life early on and he'd been stupid enough to fall for her and waste a decade of his life wrapped around her delicate fingers. Surely he wasn't dumb enough to fall for it again.

As they scaled the stairs together, he heard Molly whimper – the first sound he'd heard from her. He stopped at the top of the flight they were climbing and turned to face her, leaning against the rails for support. He crossed his arms and surveyed her meticulously. Her hair was still in a perfect braid and slithered down the side of her neck like a macabre brown snake. Her skin was porcelain white, which was different from the sun-kissed skin he was used to clothing her. He tilted his head as he looked at her figure, which seemed positively defeated, but gorgeous nonetheless. It was only at last that he looked at her eyes, which were as watery and large as the motherfucking Atlantic. He loved those eyes and he couldn't deny that staring at her was making his skin crawl with past feelings unearthed.

"You gonna be alright?" he asked, and looked at his steel-toed boots. He couldn't stand to look at her like that any longer; he willed the feelings away with great difficulty. He hadn't expected that he would react like this with her around. There had been no one before her or after her that had made his heart pound so ridiculously hard that he could hear it in his ears. There had certainly been no one since the end of the world that even slightly evoked the kind of emotions that he was feeling then, whatever they were. It was as if they'd picked up where they'd left off, discounting the major falling out they'd encountered before the world went to shit.

Molly looked at him with curious eyes. Damn her ability to read him like a goddamn open book.

"Will you sit with me again?" she asked quietly, her voice cracking from lack of use. He watched her chest heave and jerk noticeably: she was holding back emotions as well. He bit back the comment that he wanted to make about her not getting all mushy in front of him and simply nodded. He couldn't turn her down if he'd tried his damnedest, especially since there was good reason for him to sit with her. Leaving her alone was the last thing she needed at the moment.

He motioned for her to lead the way and she brushed past him briskly. As she passed, her skin touched his arm and he could feel a mild burning sensation where she'd been. There was no denying what he was feeling, that was certain, but he wasn't going to let her know anything about it. He'd said it once to Carol, and he'd said it a thousand times since then in general: ain't no point in getting feelings for somebody who's bound to be gone by the time the next year rolled around. Fuckin' stupid. As he followed her to her cell, he absentmindedly touched his arm where she'd brushed it before. When he noticed his own action, he scowled inwardly. Fuckin' stupid.

Molly walked slowly into her cell and threw herself unceremoniously onto her bunk. She closed her eyes and Daryl watched as she pressed her palms into her sockets, as if she were trying to erase the day's events. He followed her in decidedly, his boots scuffing across the floor heavily. He crouched by the bed and watched her momentarily before gently grabbing her wrists and pulling them away from her eyes. Her hands fell motionless at his touch and a large sigh escaped her lips.

"I can't thank you enough for comin' to get me today." she said, her voice trembling. Her lower lip quivered and she cleared her throat. "I was a goner." She nodded before closing her eyes again. Nervously, she wriggled her ankles back and forth over the end of the bunk. Daryl had become used to the habit of hers; she'd been doing it since he met her and he'd even picked it up at one point, much to his chagrin.

"Ain't nothin'." he said, nodding even though she couldn't see him. He watched as she bit her bottom lip and waited for her to speak. He had seen her do this a million and one times. When she felt like she was going to cry, she always waited for the wave to pass before trying to speak.

"It's always you, Daryl Dixon. I don't know what it is, but it's always you comin' to my rescue. If I didn't know better I'd think you liked me or somethin'." she joked half-heartedly. Although she tried to cover it up, he knew that she was attempting to be serious with him. He suddenly felt anxious. He had never been much for serious conversations. He was more of a 'get to the point and go' type of guy, not that she'd ever paid that any mind. She was one of the only people that could make him for an extended period of time without being absolutely miserable.

He watched as she traced patterns on the bottom of the top bunk. They sat in silence momentarily before he realized he was supposed to say something.

"You're okay, I reckon." he said, trying to play her game and keep his cool. He saw a small smirk played on her lips and was thankful that she was starting to come around. He'd been afraid she'd go into shock and turn into a complete mess after what had happened to her that day. She'd never been the type to deal with horror well and he was proud in knowing that she'd been able to handle it and was calming down.

"Thank you, I mean it. You're amazing."

Her raw honesty caught him off guard and he felt his cheeks getting hot. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously before standing up and moving over to the concrete wall, assuming his regular leaning position. Here he was, letting himself fall into all the same traps he'd told himself he'd never get caught up in again. Although he was resistant, he had long ago discovered that resisting her was like trying to put out a forest fire by pissing on it. He allowed himself to humor her and to indulge himself against his intuition.

"Like I said, I just got ya back. Ain't lettin' you get away from me again, girl."


	13. You brought me out from the cold

Molly allowed herself to pull her overshirt off and throw it onto the floor before falling quickly into a deep and uninterrupted slumber. She hadn't fully registered just how taxing the day had been on her. Her emotions were a frazzled mess and her physical state wasn't much better. She had been terrified for the majority of her day, and permanent goosebumps clothed her skin like a latex glove, even in sleep.

At one point in the night she heard Daryl shuffling around the cell. She rolled over and readjusted herself before lying still again, assuming he had gone. She allowed herself to tread the line between reality and subconscious, convinced she was alone. A few seconds later, much to her surprise, a very dirty redneck crawled into the small bunk bed beside her. Maybe he didn't know she had been stirring? Maybe he assumed she had already fallen back asleep. Surely he wouldn't have tried this while she was awake.

Molly could feel the heat radiating from his thick body – could smell the sweat that always seemed to linger on his neck and brow. He was a permanent Nervous Nellie, and she had forever teased him about it when they were younger. He was a perpetual worrier and she would always pick at the sweat stains on his work clothes and undershirts. Beneath it all, she thought it was very masculine and fucking attractive as all get out. Sweat, tobacco, and gasoline – the killing mixture that could intoxicate her upon immediate contact.

He pressed his body flush against hers – whether it was from lack of room in the small bed or sheer indulgence, she did not know. An unintentional shiver shook her to the bone and Daryl planted the most infinitesimal kiss on her bare shoulder. His scruff felt good against her skin and a flood of memories mixed into her already Daryl-polluted river of thoughts. She could feel his muscular figure against her shoulder blades, the small of her back, her ass. Had she been "awake", she would have made a comment about how he'd always liked her ass more than any other part of her.

Had she been "awake" this certainly wouldn't have been happening, she was sure.

Daryl didn't dare do much that would wake her up, but every now and again he would rub his thumb from her hipbone to her bottom rib and back. He had always done this when they were younger and she was nervous or scared, and it had never failed to make a difference. Countless times had she gotten into a fight with her father or gotten a bad mark at school and he soothed her by cradling her in his grease-stained arms. He knew every crevice and crater to her personality, and in that moment she finally felt more at home than she had in a very long while.

She fell asleep to scruff on her shoulder and embers in her heart she suspected she would never quite be able to extinguish.

–

The next morning, Molly woke up to a very light stream of dim sunlight flowing freely into her cell. She guessed that it couldn't have been much past dawn. She strained her ears for sounds of stirring prison-mates, but heard next to nothing. Snores from many of the survivors littered the stagnant air, and she was thankful for a moment of peace. Squinting heavily, she pushed herself up and hoisted her legs over the side of the bed. No sign of Daryl. Surely she hadn't imagined his actions? She rolled her eyes and placed her feet on the cool, concrete floor. She trembled at the first touch of the icy surface and squeezed her eyes together, pursing her lips. She had become unbearably accustomed to the outside heat. Cool was a foreign word to her now.

Stretching upward and hooking her fingers through the bars on the top bunk, she pulled herself up to standing position in the cell and stretched her arms up into the air. A few guttural noises left her mouth, and before she had finished stretching, a gruff grumble came from the doorway. Jerking her arms over her modest self, she whipped her head toward the door at breakneck speed.

Daryl slouched against the metal bars meant to secure her cell. He was still clad in a pair of cotton sleep pants and the dirty undershirt he'd worn the day before. The way he stared at her upon seeing her made Molly blush instinctively, much to her embarrassment. He didn't look at all like he was embarrassed at all of his behavior during the night before. Why would he be? She wasn't supposed to have any clue he had stayed in her bed with her. Covering her shoulders and chest modestly, she swayed back and forth nervously. Daryl kept his eyes toward the floor.

"I – uhh – was just comin' to make sure you was okay." he spoke gruffly and quietly, his hand on the back of his neck. His eyes watched the floor as if it were the most delightfully interesting thing in the world. The low, gravely resonance to his voice had caused her skin to crawl. It had been a long time since she'd spent any prolonged amount of time with him, and she forgot how absolutely magnetic her attraction to him was. Her pulse was rampant and she could hear the violent thud of it in her ears.

"I – yeah, I think I'm alright this mornin'." she spoke softly. She didn't know whether or not to mention the fact that she'd been awake when he'd crawled into bed with her. She wanted him to know that it was okay, but she didn't want to make him feel stupid and risk him shutting down altogether. "Thank you for all of your company last night." She decided stressing the word "all" was as close to an admission as she'd come at that moment. His eyes lingered over hers for a moment, dark blue on sky blue, and he bit the corner of his lip and looked back down, nodding.

"For you, it ain't no problem. Don't make a habit of scarin' the shit out of me though." he said, and she could momentarily see through the reinforced walls that Daryl used to safeguard his heart. He looked at her, sideways, before allowing a crooked smile to flirt with the corners of his mouth. He lingered just so, and then his gaze fell to the grey floor once more. The frayed locks of hair fell over his forehead and into his eyes and he shook his head lightly to try and rid his view of the intrusion. He scuffed his feet across the floor before clearing his throat.

"Well, I reckon I'm gonna head out again. Runnin' low on meat.." he spoke undecidedly, as if he were convincing himself to go rather than stating his intentions. Molly's smile was lopsided but sincere. She had sorely missed his tough exterior-shy interior personality. They had always been painfully opposite, and she'd loved that. She looked on as he saw her clearly for the first time in a very long time.

He'd opened his mouth to say something, but in the time it took him to breathe, she planted a soft, vulnerable kiss on his familiar lips. He didn't budge, and after a moment, she could feel his cracked lips kiss her back with a desperation she would never be able to recreate, as hard as she might try.

A low growl escaped Daryl's lips as he pushed further into the cell, his hands guiding her hips backwards to the opposite wall of the small room. His fingers pressed firmly into her hipbones and she moaned lightly into his mouth. Evidently she had managed to press a button that had not been pressed in some time, because he pressed his body so tightly against hers that the possibility of any space at all between them was annihilated. Molly bit Daryl's bottom lip between her teeth and pulled away hard before letting his lip slide out of her mouth slowly. Her hands had found their way into his shaggy hair and she tugged lightly. Daryl grunted deeply, pressing his hips tightly against her in emphasis. She could feel him, hard, up against her hip.

She looked up into the eyes she would never get quite tired of seeing. They were dark with lust but tinged with a little of something she hadn't seen in a while. He had always worn his heart on his goddamned sleeve, and there it was. He scoffed lightly, leaning down toward her.

"Girl, why you gotta do this shit to me? Every damn time. Drivin' me fuckin' crazy." he said, his forehead leaned against hers. His hot breath tickled her face and she felt a tug low in her stomach. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and, for good measure (and what she assumed was a show of testosterone), bit her lip and bucked his hips into her terribly slowly, before separating himself from her completely and sweeping from the cell, leaving her freezing and on fire all at once.


End file.
